Gundam Wear
by Amarin Rose
Summary: Pairings: 1x2x1, 3x4x3, 6x9x6, 11x13x11, RxDxR Summary: Post EW Duo's done it again: played a prank on one Chang Wufei. But he's started a chain reaction and now there's a war on: a prank war. May the best pilot win!
1. The Injustice Of Jokes

**The Injustice Of Jokes**

* * *

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing…

"Maxwell!"

…and Duo Maxwell was being his usual prankster self.

"Aw, c'mon, 'Fei, it was only a joke!" the self-proclaimed Shinigami defended his actions as he sprinted across the backyard of Quatre's mansion.

"I will not stand for this injustice!" Wufei roared, chasing Duo over benches, around trees and bushes and across the lawn towards the nearby forest. He was determined to catch his prey before Duo reached said stand of trees, because he knew how good Duo was at hiding. If the braided baka made it to the safety the foliage provided, he could hide – hell, live – there for an indefinite amount of time.

And he was **not** going to let Duo get away with this…this…

**Travesty.**

He was Chang Wufei, of the Dragon Clan. He was strong, he was quick, he delivered defeat to his enemies by dealing them swift justice. He fought for the Preventers against the rogue remnants of White Fang, he piloted Shenlong…

And he could do none of that with neon pink hair.

"MAXWELL!!"

Duo let out an, "Eep!" and ran even faster. Maybe celebrating April Fool's Day hadn't been such a good idea…


	2. The Joke's By OZ

**The Joke's By OZ**

**

* * *

**

"I don't believe it."

Those four words, whispered in a disbelieving voice, and spoken by the normally unflappable Heero, succinctly summed up what the other four pilots were thinking.

They included:

Duo's: 'Dude! And here I thought Treize had no sense of humor. Zechsy must be rubbin' off on him.'

Trowa's: 'Interesting design. I didn't know it was possible to do that with paper.'

Quatre's: 'Oh, Allah! Think of the needless waste of trees. I'm going to have to make certain Rashid sends it all to be recycled.'

And finally, Wufei's: 'Injustice! Those dishonorable curs!'

OZ had TP'd their safe house. Two-ply toilet tissue wound around the entire cream-colored edifice – one of the few mansions Quatre owned with a normal paint job – through the trees, around the bushes, over the meticulously kept flowerbeds and across the once – but not now – immaculate lawn.

And in a giant spider web of paper towels, 'OZ Was Here' was spelled out in midair.

Revenge **would** be had.

But first…

"Maxwell!" Wufei hissed, unsheathing his katana with a loud shushing sound. He stalked towards his prey with a murderous look in his dark eyes.

Violet eyes widening only slightly at the sight of his stalker – hey, he saw it pretty much every other week what with all the pranks he pulled – Duo said, feigning innocence, "What?"

"This is all your fault," Wufei seethed. "You perpetrated that injustice on not only my hair, but also on the entire Preventer base. And now, they have struck **back**!" With a loud cry, he swung at Duo, barely missing the end of a just-disappearing braid.

Duo, no fool, ran from his attacker, pouring on the speed. The heat was on. And he burned easily.


	3. Silence Speaks Louder Than Words

**Silence Speaks Louder Than Words**

* * *

'The saying goes: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.'

'I wonder what that says about you?'

True to his nominally mute demeanor, Trowa only snorted in derision at the hand-lettered bumper sticker, instead of saying anything out loud.

Propping his head on his hands – and his hands, in turn, on Trowa's shoulders – so he could read the statement, Quatre mused, "I guess whoever sent this just doesn't realize that you don't talk unless you have something important to say."

"I suppose," Trowa agreed amicably.

"Are you going to join in this game and retaliate?" Quatre inquired of his boyfriend.

Trowa's one visible eyebrow shot up. "**Is **this a game?" he asked dubiously.

Pursing his lips in thought, Quatre said thoughtfully, "Well… The war is basically over – there's only a few loose ends to tie up – so…I think this is basically stress relief, so we can all wind down." He nodded his head decisively.

"I thought it was just another one of Duo's pranks gone awry," Trowa said, frowning.

"Well, it **started** that way," Quatre agreed reluctantly, shifting to sit next to Trowa on the couch. He relieved his boyfriend of the bumper sticker and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. "But it sparked into a full-blown prank **war**."

Face scrunching up in confusion, Trowa asked, "Between whom?"

Shrugging, hands going up in a gesture of helplessness, Quatre said, "Everyone. I wouldn't be surprised if Zechs and Treize get in on it next."

Lone visible eye going wide, Trowa admitted, "That would be something to see."

"Indeed."

"For now…" Trowa contemplated his boyfriend. "Perhaps I should prove that actions speak louder than words, ne?" One long arm came out to tug the blond closer and Trowa proceeded to nuzzle his boyfriend's neck.

"Sounds good to me," Quatre murmured. "Really good."


	4. All In Duo's Time

**All In Duo's Time**

* * *

"Duo, there is a time for everything, but not right now."

"Hee-chan, it's always a good time for sex," Duo argued, flopping down into his boyfriend's lap instead of taking one of the convenient chairs at the kitchen table.

Heero didn't even so much as blink as he replied, "I do not see what sex has to do with getting revenge on OZ – other than the time and again proven fact that planning infiltration missions make you horny."

"Like pretty much everything else," Wufei grumbled, entering the room. He headed straight for the refrigerator, reaching into the freezer for some more ice, stuffing it into his insulated water bottle and plodding out of the kitchen listlessly. He'd ended up getting a black eye from their fight the previous week, and the swelling had **still** not gone down.

No one had put forth the idea that perhaps Dup had most likely messed with Wufei's anesthetic face cream. They were Gundam pilots; therefore, they were smart. None of them wanted to risk the wrath of the braided menace.

Duo heaved a sigh and turned exasperated violet eyes on his lover. "Well, gee, Heero. I could either use the five quarts of lube, half a dozen silk scarves, two pairs of handcuffs, and a gallon of chocolate body paint to get revenge on OZ, and we could just have normal sex – **or** I could use them on **you**, if you help me think up anther way to get revenge on the Ozzies."

Heero smirked slightly and tumbled his braided boyfriend back on the tabletop. "Ninmu ryoukai," he murmured against soft lips, before catching them up in a searing kiss.

_Mmm…_ Duo thought. _Now **this** is my idea of a good time._


	5. Revenge Is Funny

**Revenge Is Funny**

* * *

_Consider this AU as far as the Wars go. Gundam Wear is set a bit past the end of the Eve Wars – Treize never died and consequently Endless Waltz didn't happen exactly the same way – but the Preventers are still instated, and the pilots are members. _

* * *

"I'm not sure this is going to work, Duo," Quatre whispered worriedly.

Giving the blond a Shinigami grin, Duo said, "'Course it will, Quat! I'm the master of pranks."

"I thought you were the God of Death by Jokes," Wufei muttered. Luckily, his words were spoken low enough for Duo not to hear him, or a fight might've broken out between the two.

Scratch that. Who are we kidding? A fight **definitely** would have broken out.

"I'm still not sure about this…" Quatre mumbled, nibbling anxiously on his lower lip.

Sighing dramatically, Duo said, exasperation seeping into his tone, "To save time, let's just pretend that I know everything about what we're doing, okay?"

Heero snorted, Wufei muffled involuntary laughter, and Trowa's one visible green eye sparkled.

"Yeah, right," Quatre muttered, at opposition with his usual sweet nature. But then, he'd been up since six thirty the previous morning working on this 'project,' so maybe his sarcastic, cynical demeanor had to do with a lack of sleep.

Or maybe he was just feeling sex-deprived since he and Trowa hadn't gotten any 'alone time' in twice as long.

"Treize is gonna flip when he sees Epyon!" Duo snickered, referring to the Gundam that had been painted to look like a ballerina, complete with a metal skirt and tiara that had taken Duo an hour of preparation to get right.

"If he doesn't kill you first," Heero murmured.

"Ah, Treize-poo loves me, Hee-chan!" Duo crowed, albeit quietly.

Heero just rolled his eyes at his lover's antics, long used to Duo's patented overstatements of…pretty much everything, come to think of it.

Except anything concerning their carnal activities – or so his ego liked to think.

"And besides, if he kills me, I won't tell him how to remove the little…'surprise'…I left him on his computer." Duo smirked.

Wufei's eyes narrowed and he couldn't help but ask, "What sort of 'surprise,' Maxwell?"

Duo snickered. "Oh…you'll find out, I'm sure," he said, in a voice that made the Chinese man suspect that the braided maniac meant **firsthand**.

"Now, let's get to it!" Duo announced. Giving the other four boys a quick look, he asked, "Everybody ready?"

"Affirmative," Heero answered.

"Ready," Trowa deigned to actually reply aloud.

"Ready," Quatre agreed, voice tight.

Wufei snorted. "Just get **on** with it, Maxwell."

Giving Pilot 05 another Shinigami grin, Duo said, "As you wish, 'Fei."

And with one push of a button, all the Aries, Leos and Tauruses on the Preventer training grounds – which had been repainted in either hot pink and neon purple, covered with obscene phrases, or altered to be anatomically correct – started doing the Macarena.


	6. The Lightning Strikes And The Laughter R...

**The Lightning Strikes And The Laughter Rolls**

* * *

"My mind works like lightning – one brilliant flash and it's gone!" Zechs read off the camouflage green T-shirt in his hands.

Treize coughed and manfully choked back his laughter.

Glaring at his friend and former superior officer, Zechs snarled, "Do you think this is **funny**, Kushrenada?"

"Oh, no," Treize denied, chortling slightly. He grinned widely. "I think it's hilarious."

"Just you wait, Treize; it'll be your turn soon enough," Zechs said with certainty as he balled up the irksome shirt and threw in a nearby trash receptacle.

"As if it wasn't bad enough that Maxwell painted Epyon to look like a ballerina," Treize groused. "Now you want him to do something **else** to me?"

"As Chang would say, 'It would be only justice,'" Zechs said dryly.

Treize snorted. "You're probably right," he admitted grudgingly.

"Thankfully, Tallgeese was spared the humiliation," Zech said. "And I still don't know how you convinced me to beg that braided menace on your behalf to help you get that computer virus off your viewscreen."

Looking slightly sheepish, Treize admitted, "I heard that the same thing happened to Chang's Gundam, and I was worried he might take it personally and try to thwart my efforts."

Rolling his eyes, Zechs said, "And who beat **whom** in that duel, **General**?"

Treize gave a disdainful sniff and tuned away. "At least Noin isn't here," he pointed out. "She'd be laughing her head off and telling you that this shirt was right."

Zech frowned sourly. "You're probably right," he said, echoing the other's words from moment's past.

"So…what do we do now?" Treize asked, once it was apparent that their verbal sparring had come to an end.

"What 'we,' Kushrenada?" Zechs snorted. "I'm getting revenge on my own. You want payback for Epyon, that's your problem, but **I** will get the last laugh." And with that, he stalked out of the room, mumbling under his breath about rewiring the electricity of the WEI building to blink out 'Duo is Dumb.'

Heaving a sigh, Treize mused contemplatively, "Maybe I should have been a bit more compassionate." Remembering that Zechs had almost gone into convulsions when he'd seen Epyon's new paint job, he smirked. "Nah."


	7. Two Sides To Every Colonel

**Two Sides To Every Colonel**

* * *

'I am schizophrenic, and so am I.'

Lady Anne Une, former Colonel of Romefeller, now Commander of the Preventers, glared down at the T-shirt in her hands. It was in a shade of uniform beige – the same shade as her work shirts – with the lettering in military green.

"I am **not** schizophrenic," she gritted out between her teeth. "I am…bipolar," she admitted grudgingly.

"And the medication worked wonders for you, love," Treize said softly, wrapping comforting arms around her shoulders

Sagging back against her husband, she relaxed her grip and let the hated shirt fall to the floor. Her knuckles had gone white under the stress she was putting on the cotton garment, and while it might have been satisfying to rip it to shreds, she'd probably end up ripping out one of her fingernails in the process.

It would be safer for her to burn the damn thing in the fireplace. Watching it go up in smoke would be cathartic as well.

Her therapist couldn't argue with that, ne?

"Thanks, Treize," Une said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "But what am I going to do about this? I don't even know which of those boys sent me this," she fumed. Bad enough that the ex-Gundam pilots worked for her now, but this 'game' of theirs verged on insubordination.

Even if **was** occasionally funny…when you weren't the one getting hit.

Considering the question for a moment, the former General said, "I don't think it matters who sent it to you – you can get back whichever one you want. It seems to be a chain letter type thing, instead of actual revenge."

"Hmm…interesting," Une mused, an evil smile creeping across her lips. "I wonder what Mr. Maxwell will think about me turning the tables on him?"


	8. Death Is Only The Beginning

**Death Is Only The Beginning**

* * *

'Necrophilia means never having to say you're sorry.'

Duo's jaw dropped, his face a perfect mask of undisguised horror. He grimaced in distaste, looking as if there was a foul taste in his mouth. Before Heero could say anything to make him feel better, the self-proclaimed Shinigami's face twisted up in a mask of murderous rage.

"That…is…**sick**!" Duo declared vehemently, anger darkening his normally smiling face. "I may be the God of Death, but I have **never** had sex with anyone who wasn't breathing."

Hoping a joke would cheer his lover up, Heero said dryly, "I should hope not. You've only ever had sex with me."

Duo blinked up at him quizzically, then smiled shakily. "Yeah…you're right." He grimaced at the black T-shirt – with blood red letters that looked like they were really dripping life's fluid – in his hands. "But this is really sick," he reiterated.

"Dark humor," Heero corrected. "Humorous, but also slightly morbid."

"Slightly!" Duo squeaked, voice rising three octaves from the norm. "This is completely and utterly degrading! I don't know what…whoever it was who sent me this was thinking."

"Probably that they'd like to get you back." At Duo's uncomprehending look, Heero sighed and said pointedly, but gently, "You did start this game, Duo."

Duo squirmed and stared down at the hated shirt in his hands. Frowning, he unconsciously flipped one of his knives out from the sheath on his wrist and attacked the item of apparel. "Yeah, I know, Heero," he admitted grudgingly, as he began methodically cutting the shirt into strips. "But the Ozzies are taking this too far."

"It's just a joke, Duo," Heero said softly, one hand reaching out to knead his lover's tense shoulders "You're not supposed to take it seriously."

"At the core of every lie is a kernel of truth," Duo quoted in a quiet voice. "What if this is really what they think of me?"

Lips quirking up in a small smile as he watched the black cloth fall in tattered ribbons to the floor, Heero said, "I think whoever it was just wanted to get under your skin."

Pausing in his clothing dismemberment, Duo appeared to give that due consideration. A Shinigami grin overtaking his face, he said, "Well, if they want to get to me, let's see how they like it where I'm coming from."

Heero blinked. "Hn?"

Duo's grin – already impossibly wide and showing more teeth than ten sharks – spread wider. "Welcome to Hell, Ozzies. Hope you enjoy our…hospitality." He chuckled darkly.

Though Duo was in a much better mood, Heero suddenly wondered if it that was such a good thing.


	9. It's A Nice Place To Visit, But I Wouldn...

**It's A Nice Place To Visit, But I Wouldn't Want To Live There**

* * *

"'Where am I going, and why am I in this hand basket?'" Treize read off the shirt in his hands.

"Oh…Hell," his wife snickered.

Eyes narrowing, he said, "This isn't very funny, Une."

"Oh, **yes**, it is," Une refuted with relish. "It's about time you got hit." She frowned, rereading the saying on the plain white T-shirt. "Even if it isn't all that insulting."

Chuckling silently so as not to piss his wife off, Treize said, "Well, I must admit I'm rather glad the insult is so mild. When to comes to such games as these, I'm afraid my imagination is not up to the task."

Une's frown deepened. "You mean you're not going to send an insult to someone else?" she asked disbelievingly.

A cunning smile overtaking his face, Treize said, "Well, I thought perhaps you'd be willing to go after someone in my stead…"

A bright, sunny smile grace Une's face. "You mean it?" she asked, almost childishly happy at the thought of being able to take revenge.

Treize chuckled at the sight of his wife so happy. _Maybe she needs to take up a hobby if she gets so excited by this. I wonder if she'd like knitting?_ "Yes."

The sunny smile changed to a malicious smirk. "Then I think I should get started…"

_On the other hand, she's so sexy when she's plotting. Maybe I'll wait a while before suggesting a hobby,_ Treize decided.

Seeing the almost predatory look in his love's eyes, Treize grinned and surrendered to the inevitable seduction. _A **long **while._


	10. Life's A Bitch, But Payback's Great!

**Life's A Bitch, But Payback's Great!**

* * *

'I'm a sensitive, New Age guy. Please don't laugh at me or I might cry.'

Quatre blinked at the baby blue T-shirt in his hands. And it **was **'baby' blue. It couldn't be termed pale blue, light blue, sky blue or even the not-entirely-manly name of periwinkle. And to add insult to injury – or maybe that was injury to the insult – the inch-high letters were done in sparkly pink puff paint.

In the same shade as Relena Peacecraft's limos.

A dangerous glint lit Quatre's eyes and proceeded to turn the pastel piece of impertinence into a large pile of cotton threads.

Eyeing his lover from a remotely safe distance – halfway across the room, which normally wouldn't be far enough to save him from Quatre's wrath should he decided to turn its focus on him, but this **was** one of the WEI's properties, and as such was much too large for the Peacemillion, let alone five Gundam pilots – Trowa waited until Quatre's growling had lowered to a few decibels above a purr before carefully approaching him. He made sure to make enough noise to alert his lover that he was there.

"I take it the insult you received was rather more insulting than most have been so far?" Trowa asked needlessly. If it had just a funny saying, such as the one he himself had received, he knew Quatre wouldn't have reacted with such fury. This was more along the lines of the homicidal rage Duo had been wrapped up in, which was caused by the 'necrophilia' shirt he'd gotten.

Only scarier.

**Much **scarier.

"No kidding," Quatre said softly, exhausted by the rush of aggression rushing through his veins. Staring down at the pile of shredded cloth in his lap, he asked plaintively, "Why does everyone thing that I'm weak, Trowa?"

Knowing that the continuation of his very existence – and his future sex life – might hinge on his next words, Trowa chose them carefully. "I think it is because you are such a nice person, liebe," he said finally. "People see that as you being passive and letting people walk all over you, instead of your inherent niceness."

"So…I'm too nice?" Quatre asked blandly, idly toying with a knife he'd pulled from his boot.

Warily eyeing the weapon, Trowa scrambled for an answer, finally coming up with, "I don't believe there's such a thing as being too nice, but then it wasn't me who sent you that shirt." It was a perfect answer, he felt, both telling Quatre that he loved him – or at least implying it in his own reticent way – and shifting the blame off of himself.

He'd always been good at using the least amount of words possible to get across his point.

That grin crossed Quatre's face again – the one-step-from-Zero-System maniacal grin – and the blond said, "Well, I think it's time people realized that Mr. Nice Guy bites back." He laughed, in such a way as to send chills down one's spine.

Trowa inched away from his lover. Everybody knew that they never wanted to face the wrath of Shinigami – or the cold, deadly perusal of the Perfect Solider – but few knew just vindictive Quatre Reberba Winner could be.

After all, he'd learned from the best – twenty-nine older sisters.


	11. Dignity Isn't The Only Thing That Bit Th...

**Dignity Isn't The Only Thing That Bit The Dust Lately**

* * *

'Honor, Justice, Valor…Chivalry.'

'Please give a few moments of silence for the dearly departed.'

"Max**well**!" Wufei roared.

A loud thump was heard from overhead, followed by the sound of muffled cursing. The sound of running feet in the upstairs hallway and on the stairs sounded throughout the house and a few seconds after Wufei had issued his demand, Duo stuck his head inside the door. "What, 'Fei?" he asked breathlessly.

Wufei blinked and flushed crimson as he noticed that the other pilot wasn't wearing a shirt – and his pants were unbuttoned, revealing the fact that he also wasn't wearing underwear. Duo was also panting heavily; his face was flushed with anger, exasperation and repressed lust. He was sweaty and his braid was tousled as if he'd been rolling around on the floor.

_Or on the bed…_ the thought came unbidden to Wufei's mind; he really didn't need to be thinking about Yuy and Maxwell's sex life!

He was about to send Maxwell away when he caught a glance of the bumper sticker he'd received out of the corner of his eye and his ire returned. "Did you send this to me?" he demanded, brandishing the navy blue and gold bumper sticker at the other boy.

Head bobbing up and down as he tried to read what was written on the sticker, Duo finally gave up and shook his head. "No, man; last person I got was Treize. Last I knew, he and Une had gotten Quatre, and I don't know who he got."

Wufei blinked, stunned. "Are you suggesting that Winner sent me this…this…atrocity?"

"I ain't suggesting nothin'," Duo snarled, having been riled up by first having his afternoon delight with Heero interrupted and now by having his honesty questioned. "I'm only saying that I don't know the links of the insult chain letter after Quatre. Make of that what you will. I, for one, am going back to bed."

"Yes, you are," Heero said, appearing next to Duo in the doorway. Glaring death at Wufei, he said, voice clipped, "Chang, interrupt us at such an…inopportune time…for such a paltry reason again, and you won't have to worry about Shenlong, I'll just paint **you** hot pink." That being said, he turned to Duo, and yanking on the bedraggled braid to bring the other boy closer, he hefted his lover into his arms and proceeded to carry him back to their aforementioned bed – whilst quieting Duo's protests with his mouth.

A bit taken aback by the display, Wufei sighed and looked down at the bumper sticker in his hands. "Well, Duo never lies, so he didn't send me this. And Treize would never be so dishonorable, but…" He shook his head and proceeded to tear the sticker into so much confetti. "Winner would never do something like this."

Although, in the back of his mind Wufei couldn't help remembering that Quatre wasn't as innocent as some people would like to believe. The picture that came to his mind was of that little, dark smile – not quite a smirk – that Quatre wore when under the influence of the ZERO System. It had reappeared several times since then – though not nearly as blank or homicidal – whenever he was very, very angry.

Suddenly Wufei wasn't so sure it would be a good idea to continue this game of prank tag. He had a feeling that before long, his dignity would be joining honor, justice, valor, and chivalry on the list of the dead…if it hadn't already.


	12. Hypothetically, If There Were No Boredom

**Hypothetically, If There Were No Boredom…**

* * *

"I'm bored," Duo announced, and the whole world trembled in terror.

Well…

Not really.

But the other four pilots in the room did shudder in mild fear.

"And what would help you relieve your boredom, Maxwell?" Wufei asked, sounding mildly bored himself. He turned another page in Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ and frowned down at the words on the page.

"I don't know…" Duo sighed, blowing out a breath of frustration which lifted his bangs off his forehead. "I've been trying to figure out how to get back at OZ for that damn T-shirt Zechs sent me, and I haven't come up with anything evil enough."

"I have an idea," Wufei said sarcastically. "Why don't you just cease this foolish 'game' of yours now? That way you wouldn't **have** to plan revenge."

"But this is fun," Quatre protested, blushing slightly when the others turned his way. "Well…it is," he mumbled mutinously, curling up nearer to Trowa to hide his embarrassment.

After all, his boyfriend felt the same way.

"You're corrupting them with your influence, Maxwell," Wufei sighed in feigned disappointment. "First Yuy, now Winner…"

Heero blinked and glared at the Chinese boy. Duo had not 'corrupted' him as such.

"Next thing you know, I'll have corrupted you too, ne, 'Fei-chan?" Duo quirked a grin, eyes dancing at the glower his target threw him. "But seriously, anyone else have any thoughts?"

"Here's a thought: you could shut up," Wufei offered.

Duo huffed and said, "Here's another thought: What if there were no hypothetical questions?"

His meticulously logical brain hitting a roadblock at the nonsensical irrationality of that statement, Wufei's mind went offline as he tried to think up a comeback. "I…what…do you…" Snapping his mouth closed, he shook his head hard to dispel the idiotic statement the other had made. "Shut up, Duo," he muttered petulantly, closing his book harshly. He rose from the couch and stalked out of the room, grumbling under his breath about braided bakas.

Duo grinned triumphantly at having gotten one over on the usually rigid pilot. "Ha-hah!" he chuckled softly. "I got him **good** this time."

Reviewing the conversation in his head, Heero gave his lover a disbelieving look. "Did Chang actually call you by your first name?" he asked.

Duo blinked. "Yeah…he did, didn't he?"

"I wonder why?" Quatre asked.

"No clue, Q-man," Duo said, shrugging it off as a momentary aberration – one to be picked apart at a later date, when he wasn't so busy. "Now, back to the business at hand…"

Trowa sighed and snuggled his lover closer. At least Duo wasn't bored anymore…


	13. Thoughtless

**Thoughtless**

* * *

'Ever stopped to think…and forget to start again?'

Dorothy burst out laughing.

Perfectly pink-painted lips twisting up in a moue of distaste at the sight of the bumper sticker in her perfectly pink-manicured hands, Relena said, "I have no earthly idea how to respond to this…accusation."

Dorothy hid her snickers behind her hand. "You don't mean to say that you've never engaged in a cognitive activity of any kind…do you?" she asked leadingly, doing her best to stifle her mirth – and failing, miserably.

Relena flushed darkly. "That's not what I meant to imply," she said with strangled dignity – preferably with Dorothy being the victim of said strangulation. "What I meant was that I can't deny this, because then that would imply that I've never stopped to think." She growled under her breath – sounding more like a pissed off Rottweiler than the pampered pink pacifist poodle she appeared to be – and ripped the piece of sticky-backed paper cleanly in two.

Eyeing the destruction of the bumper sticker with thinly-veiled amusement, Dorothy finally managed to quiet her chuckles. "So what are you going to do now?" she asked. She bit her lip to keep from smirking at the sight her boss made.

Closing her eyes and leaning back in her specially ordered pink-upholstered swiveling desk chair, Relena let out a long breath of air, more a release of tension than an actual sigh. Opening her eyes once more, she turned to her press secretary, a downtrodden expression on her normally smiling face. "What can I do? Retaliation goes against my pacifist beliefs."

Inwardly snorting at the thought of insulting someone being taken as an act of war, Dorothy nonetheless knew when to pick her moments. There'd never be a more perfect one for her to broach the beginning of one of her personal pet projects – Makeover Relena. Eyes focused on her boss, Dorothy said, "I think that perhaps you should try and make whomever it was who sent you this–"

"It was either Wufei or Duo; they're the only ones who haven't hit anyone recently," Relena supplied.

Dorothy nodded and continued, "–and make those two eat their words."

Relena blinked, brow furrowing into a frown. "And how would I go about doing that?"

Clearing her throat, Dorothy said delicately, "I think that you should give up the pink."

"Pink?" Relena repeated, uncomprehending.

Dorothy nodded. "It makes you look…young. Which isn't the kind of image you want to project. You are a competent young woman who can take on the whole Earth Sphere, but you don't look like it."

Taking a look around her office – which, while it wasn't overly pink, was possessed of a soft gray carpet which contrasted nicely with the blush-colored walls; chairs and a couch in a matching pink and silver brocade gracing the floors – and at herself – she was clothed in a pink pants suit, which was, even to her tastes, a bit too…bright – Relena realized Dorothy was right.

_The limo gets repainted at the first opportunity,_ she decided. _And I get a decorator in here on Monday. Blue sounds nice. But right now…_

"Want to go shopping?" the Vice Foreign Minster asked, picking up her keys and purse.

Dorothy grinned. "Now that's a good thought."


	14. Shadows Of Laughter

**Shadows Of Laughter**

* * *

'Excuse me, I need to go fade into the background now.'

Looking down at the forest green T-shirt in his hands, Trowa huffed.

Quatre snickered, bringing the attention of his brooding brunet boyfriend towards him.

"What?" Trowa asked, raising his lone visible eyebrow in inquiry.

Helpless with laughter, Quatre managed to choke out, "It's…your own…fault for…blending in so well."

Cocking his head to the side, Trowa gave that thought due consideration. Each of the Gundam pilots had a special ability that excelled at – Heero his hacking prowess, Duo his stealth skills, Quatre his empathy and ability to divine people's true motives; he was also an excellent tactician, and Wufei was proficient in the martial arts and sword work. He himself was best at blending in – becoming little more than a shadow on the wall. It was similar to Duo's ability to sneak in and out of bases with no one being the wiser until they were blown up, but he had the rarely found ability of being able to pass unnoticed even when he was in plain sight.

It wasn't always a good thing, however. Though it had come in handy at more than one boring dinner party.

"I am not a wallflower," Trowa stated.

"No," Quatre agreed, one hand in front of his mouth to help stifle giggles. "You just prefer not to be in the spotlight."

"Except when Cathy is throwing knives at me," Trowa deadpanned, carefully folding the shirt into a neat rectangle. He might never wear it to go out, but if nothing else, he could wear it when he was training with the lions.

Seeing the garment ripped to shreds of cotton kitty litter by big cats **would** be rather nice.

His lover's wry humor was too much for Quatre, and his tentative hold on his levity broke. He laughed so hard he fell over onto his ass on the floor.

Staring down at the mirthful ball of flesh that was his lover, Trowa hummed thoughtfully. He hadn't thought his joke was **that** funny…


	15. On Monday, We Clean, On Tuesday: Revenge

**On Monday, We Clean, On Tuesday…Revenge.**

* * *

_Let us pretend that Mattel's Barbie™ dolls are still around in AC 196, shall we? And that everyone is still vaguely familiar with Aqua's song 'Barbie Girl.'_

* * *

'I'm a Barbie Boy.'

Zechs' eyes went wide, his jaw went slack and he stared, dumbfounded and not a little incensed at the pale pink T-shirt in his hands. In truth, he would have thought his sister would have been the one to receive such a thing, considering her penchant for pink.

But then, she had been doing some redecorating lately. Still…

He didn't have any clue who would **dare** to send him something like this – though Maxwell was a good possibility. Making a mental note to try to keep track of who got who with what, Zechs frowned down at the shirt in his hands. "What does this mean?" he asked of the ether.

The ether, of course, did not answer. His wife, however, did.

"You have long, blond hair, Zechs. It was only a matter of time before **someone** commented on it," Noin informed him as she washed the grime from her hands. They'd just finished moving into their married housing in the Preventers barracks and were in the midst of cleaning everything of stray carpet fibers, paint chips and wood shavings when the package containing Zechs' newest item of apparel had arrived.

"I'm not the only man in the Earth Sphere with long hair," Zechs objected. His normally free platinum blond locks were currently tucked underneath a painter's cap to keep them reasonably dust free, but they still hung to his waist.

Smiling at her husband, Lucrezia Noin-Merquise said, "No, you're not, but Maxwell keeps his out of the way in a braid. You don't even put yours up in a ponytail. From behind, you look like your sister."

"I'm several inches taller than her," Zechs grumbled, but knew his wife had a point. Maybe when piloting Tallgeese, it didn't matter if his hair was down, since there were no breezes, but now that he was Agent Wind, he'd have to do **something** about his hair. Cutting it was out of the question – he'd grown fond of the length – and so was wearing it in a braid, for obvious reasons.

"I suppose I'll have to start wearing it in a ponytail," he conceded. "But I still don't think there was cause to send this to me. Having long blond hair isn't enough!" with that, he wadded up the T-shirt and shoved it into the bucket of cleaning supplies underneath the sink. It would make a fine cleaning rag.

"True," Noin agree. "But just think what might have happened if Dorothy Catalonia was the one who received it."

Remembering the woman – who, despite her strangely forked eyebrows, also looked like his sister from behind – Zechs shivered. The woman was fierce, malicious and just a downright scary **bitch**. He shuddered to even **think** what might happen if she got hit in this little insult war.

A slow smile came over his face. Of course, if he could shift the blame off onto someone **else**…

And he could just sit back and enjoy the fireworks.


	16. I Am Woman, Hear Me Bitch

**I Am Woman, Hear Me Bitch**

* * *

'I'm not **a** Bitch. I'm **the** Bitch. And I'm **Miss** Bitch to you.'

Looking down at the plain black-on-white T-shirt in her hands, a slow, almost sinfully evil smile spread across Dorothy Catalonia's face. "Oh, I **like **this," she purred with an almost scarily happy lilt to her voice.

Relena gulped and fought back against the near-overwhelming urge to inch away from her press secretary. The other woman may never have used the ZERO System, but she could be scarier than anyone who ever had – even **without** Wing's buster rifle or Sandrock's shotels.

"A bitch," Dorothy mused. She grinned widely, showing more teeth than the average shark. "I really do like this."

"Er…why?" Relena couldn't help but ask. She cringed back into her chair as those stormy blue-gray eyes fixed on her with a manic gleam.

"Because anyone stupid enough to send this to me **must** expect retaliation," Dorothy said with relish. "Which means I can invectively attack them with extreme prejudice."

Relena nodded hesitantly. Dorothy's plans were not exactly in line with her pacifist beliefs…

But she really wished she wasn't holding so strongly to them; she would have liked to have been able to take revenge for the T-shirt **she** had received.

Dorothy grinned even wider. "And once everyone else in this little cluster-fuck of a game–" Relena blushed at the terminology, "–finds out what happened, they, too will know not to mess with me." She bared her teeth in a vicious smirk while looking dreamily off into space as she imagined what she was going to do.

"Ah," was the only thing Relena couldn't come up with that sounded even vaguely innocuous.

Dorothy laughed maniacally and declared, "Look out, Earth Sphere, the bitch is **back**!"

_And she's lost her marbles,_ Relena thought with wry fondness, watching her secretary make a sound that could only be called 'cackling.'


	17. Of Warnings, Hair, And Craziness

**Of Warnings, Hair, And Craziness**

* * *

'It may be that your sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others.'

Heero's brow furrowed. "Exactly what are you supposed to serve as a warning **for**?" he asked his lover, glancing up from the white-on-black T-shirt in Duo's hands.

Duo shrugged, a manic grin on his face. "Piloting a Gundam is hazardous not only to your health, but also your sanity?" he suggested. "That crime doesn't pay? Although, in my case, since I was never caught stealing, I don't suppose that counts," he appended with a thoughtful look.

Heero just raised a brow, amusement dancing in his navy blue eyes. "I think those would be warnings that all of us could serve for," he pointed out. "What about something more specific to yourself?"

"That worrying gives you split ends?" Duo picked up his braid and gazed mournfully down at the ragged tufted end.

Heero snorted. "You need to get a trim every once in a while. Even **I** do that."

"But unless you get a buzz cut, it'll still be messy," Duo replied with a smirk.

Heero frowned. "I thought you liked it messy?" he asked. Duo certainly spent enough time running his hands through it and messing it up even more…

But then again, he did much the same with Duo's hair.

_But at least you help him brush it out and braid it!_ a little voice in his head said. He'd gotten used to those little voices since the war ended. He wasn't sure if they were remnants from ZERO, or just his conscience, but it was nice to get another perspective on things.

Speaking of perspectives… Heero forced his mind back onto their conversation.

"I do like your hair messy, babe," Duo answered. "Never said I didn't. But I don't even remember the last time you got it cut – it's looking a little ragged around the ends."

Heero blinked. He had a hard time remembering it as well.

_You did it yourself, with a pair of scissors. Back when you were on the Peacemillion,_ that little voice supplied helpfully.

Which had been a little under three months ago; no wonder it was hanging in his eyes. He normally had his hair cut once a month. "It's ragged because I cut it myself and I couldn't reach far enough to get it even," Heero replied to Duo's unasked question. His lover was a boundless well of curiosity and he could only be thankful that Duo wasn't a cat, or his nine lives would have been up long before they'd met.

"You did it yourself?" Duo asked, one eyebrow rising up until it disappeared into chestnut bangs. "That a regular thing?"

"It is now," Heero said. He didn't like letting strange people anywhere near his head with sharp implements. Back when he was traveling with Odin Lowe, he cut his hair. When he'd ended up with Doctor J, the bionic scientist had taken over the job; that prosthetic arm of his was a veritable Swiss Army knife of attachments, and a pair of scissors had been included. He'd had no problems with pointed objects being near his head until Doctor J had gotten his 'hand' on him. Now he preferred to do it himself.

"Yeah, well, you're gonna keep ending up with uneven ends unless you grow it out like mine." Duo waved the end of his braid in example. "I just take out a pair of scissors, hold up the end of the braid, and cut off the last inch or so."

"I don't really think I'd look all that good with long hair," Heero said dryly, knowing that Duo hadn't been serious about that. _But it would make things easier,_ that little voice thought at him. _And it would be a hassle. One longhaired person in the house is enough,_ he thought back. His exposure to ZERO was the only reason he could handle having conversations with himself with any aplomb, but it still struck him as strange at times.

But then, he was strange. They all were. It seemed to be part and parcel of being a Gundam pilot.

"I think you'd look pretty hot, but then again, I'm biased." Duo tossed him a wink. "However, if you want, I could cut your hair for you. I've gotten pretty good at it over the years."

The offer had been made in a seemingly offhand manner, and at first, Heero thought it was just Duo trying not to pressure him into making a decision, but then he realized that Duo didn't know **why** he cut his hair himself and so wasn't aware of his…phobia. Therefore the other boy would have no reason to try to put him at ease, not thinking it was needed to get him to accept.

_You are going to accept, aren't you?_ The little voice was back.

_Maybe,_ he thought back noncommittally.

_Oh, come on. You love it when he touches your hair, and here you're guaranteed a solid half hour every month! You'd be an idiot to pass that up._

Heero blinked. The little voice had a point.

"Sounds good," Heero agreed and pointedly hit his mental 'Mute' button when the little voice started laughing its nonexistent head off.

Insane he may have been – the fact that he had voices in his head could possibly attest to that – but he wasn't crazy enough to turn down such an offer.


	18. Life, The Pranks, And Egotism

**Life, The Pranks, And Egotism**

* * *

_Today's quote brought to you by the author Douglas Adams, his character Zaphod Beebelbrox. Go forth and read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and become a frood who really knows where your towel is. And always remember: Tuesdays are truly the worst day of the week, 42 is the meaning of life, life is like a grapefruit, no major problems can be solved with just potatoes, and time is an illusion._

* * *

'If there is anything in the universe more important than my ego, I want it taken out and shot immediately.'

Treize stared aghast at the T-shirt in his hands, jaw hanging open, eyes wide with appalled fascination.

Une was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, snickering. She **had** been standing up, but once she'd started laughing, she'd started shaking so hard from her laughter that she was unable to remain on her feet and had slid down the wall.

Finally shaking off his shocked daze, Treize took out his letter opener – really an ornate antique jeweled dagger that he had just decided to get some use out of instead of letting it laughing in a weapons display – and started fastidiously cutting the T-shirt into strips into long cotton strips.

Une's laughter finally petered out and she pushed herself to her feet and came over to watch her husband shred the shirt. "Too bad," she remarked, letting a titter escape before she quashed it. "I would have loved the see the look on Maxwell's face when he saw you wearing that."

Treize grunted. "Chang was the one who sent this to me," he replied, scowling as the dagger met resistance when he tried to cut through the collar. All the mail he'd opened with it had dulled the sharp edge.

Une blinked. "Oh, my," she said, knowing that if the most honorable Chang Wufei had thrown himself so whole-heartedly into this game as to greatly insult someone he was respected…

All bets were off.

"Exactly," Treize replied, familiar enough with her thought processes from years of exposure to guess where they'd led her. "And what's worse – Zechs pulled Dorothy in."

Une managed to hold back a whimper only by sheer force of will. She herself had often been called the 'Bitch of OZ' when her manic 'Colonel' side had taken over, but Dorothy Catalonia was, and would always remain, one of the scariest women she'd ever met.

Catalonia was a bitch **all** the time. And she was completely unpredictable.

"And Miss Catalonia does not seem to be observing the unwritten, implicit rule of this game that you only hit one person at a time," Treize added, continuing in his clothing decimation.

That did it. Sheer force of will was no match for stark-raving terror. If Catalonia wasn't abiding by **one** rule, then it was as good as said that she wouldn't abide by **any** of them.

"I've already swept for bugs and doubled the security," Treize told her, taking his eyes off his handiwork long enough to send her a reassuring glance. "But would you mind terribly checking to make sure she hasn't sent us a computer virus?"

Une whimpered.


	19. All Tied Up And No One To Prank

**All Tied Up And No One To Prank**

* * *

_Anyone who has read Vathara's 'Upon A Fiery Steed' will recognize what the microwave popcorn and wet fuse are for. Anyone who hasn't…go read that fic. Immediately, if not sooner. Ano…after you finish this chapter. :-)_

* * *

"Duo Maxwell, has anyone ever told you that are an irritating pest?" Treize inquired, eyes following the braided menace as he stalked around him.

Duo snorted and continued in his work. "Yup, Heero and Wufei, all the time. And I don't listen to them, either," he added with a cheeky grin. With those words – and a rather large ripping sound – he finished wrapping the last of the duct tape around the former General, his lady wife, and the two chairs they were sitting in, back-to-back.

Standing back to admire his handiwork, Duo took no notice of the twin scowls that were on his boss's and her husband's faces.

"Might I inquire as to **why** you have us tied up?" Treize asked civilly.

"Of course you may!" Duo answered cheerfully. He smirked. "But that don't mean I'm going to give you an answer."

Commander Une sighed. "Maxwell, what is this all about?" She gestured with her chin at the rest of the room, which was, at that moment, filled with all sorts of paraphernalia including large tubs of glitter and tubes of superglue, multicolored metallic confetti, half a dozen rubber chickens, ten cans of whipped cream, a box of microwave popcorn – which was resting next to a vial of what she was almost certain contained what was known with apprehension around the Bomb Squad as 'Maxwell's Special Number 7,' a wet fuse which ignited on drying – hair dye in a rainbow of colors and a box of neatly labeled computer disks that had her itching to lock up her laptop for fear of having chibi Gundams running amok on her computer screen. She'd **heard** what had happened to Zechs' Tallgeese and had no wish to see it firsthand.

Hiding a smile, Treize shook his head. "Maxwell, you are evil."

Duo nodded solemnly. "I blame it on the universe. The universe is an evil place. But at least it seems to have a sense of humor about the whole thing. Unlike you," he added pointedly.

"You're the one who started this, Agent Death," Une said, her use of his designation making it very clear that were they not all off-duty she would have put him on report and then cheerfully shot him for good measure. If Maxwell were convalescing, surely he wouldn't be able to cause as much trouble.

One could hope, at any rate.

Duo sighed exasperatedly. "And I for some reason everyone feels the need to make sure I get hit more than once," he replied. "It wasn't only me, you know. I played another in my long line of jokes on 'Fei, and **he** decided to bring the rest of you into it. I may have started this whole thing, but he's the only who spread the joy."

"Chang?" Treize inquired with a disbelieving lift of his brow. "I find that hard to swallow."

"You know I never lie, T-man," Duo reminded them both. "I always tell the truth – even if I have to lie to do it!" he added cheekily.

Treize grimaced at the joke. "Point," he admitted.

Une nodded sullenly.

"But that's no reason to subject us both to…whatever you have planned," Treize added, eyeing the accumulated items with thinly-veiled distress.

Duo smirked. "No, but the fact that I haven't gotten either of you yet **is**." With that, he pulled out a device from his pants pocket – it resembled a cross between a remote control and a cellular phone – pressed a button on it, and plunged the room into darkness.

He cackled maniacally and, ignoring the sputters and threats of death his two 'captives' sent his way, grabbed his prank paraphernalia. With an unseen mischievous light in his eyes, Duo set to arranging his pranks around the office, in places where both Treize and Une would run into them once they managed to get the duct tape off.

Finishing his booby-trapping in a matter of minutes, Duo pressed a quick kiss to Une's cheek and sprayed the both of them with rainbow Silly String before scampering off to make mischief elsewhere, Treize's shout of indignation ringing in his ears.

"Max**well**!"

Duo snickered and made good his escape. He still had all but one of the rubber chickens, the microwave popcorn and his wet fuse, half his supply of confetti, and all of the boxes of hair dye to use – and he still had the **other** pilots to prank.


	20. Antisocial Bishounen And The Pilots Who ...

**Anti-Social Bishounen And The Pilots Who Love Them**

* * *

'The more people I meet, the more I like my Gundam.'

Heero pursed his lips in an almost imperceptible frown. "I'd actually wear this," he told Duo, seriousness etched on his face. "If it weren't for the fact that we're trying to keep our identities as Gundam pilots a secret."

Duo's eyes went wide and only a quick hand on the nearby table kept him from falling on his ass. "You're kidding?" he said faintly. He shook his head. "You **like** this shirt?" Normally an insult to his person got at least a Death Glare, if not an actual threat of death. Threats to any of his friends – Duo at the top of the list – got a gun in the face of whatever hapless person had dared to even **breathe** such things near the Perfect Solider.

Duo surreptitiously examined his lover for signs of drug use.

Heero thought for a moment and then nodded decisively. "I don't like most people I meet," he said bluntly. "A great majority of them are insipid, stupid, annoying, lazy, incompetent, or just plain irritating."

Duo's eyebrow rose up into his shaggy chestnut bangs. "Present company excluded, I hope," he stated more than asked.

Heero snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course, baka," he said, his tender tone turning the invective into an endearment.

"But normally you don't react so well to insults," Duo went on.

"When I asked you why you never got mad when Wufei called you, 'Kisama!' you said it was because you believed that if it was true, it couldn't be all that insulting," Heero reminded his lover. "And like I said, I **do** like Wing better than most people."

Duo groaned and flopped back on the bed. He should've **known** his words would come back to bite him on the ass. Duo's eyes opened, a small smile growing into fruition on his lips as he remembered some of the more risqué things he'd said to his lover, and perked up. _Now, if **Heero** bit me in the ass…_

Smirking, Duo bounded up from the bed and over to his lover, a plan on his mind to distract Heero from his revenge.


	21. All Tied Up And No Place To 'Come'

**All Tied Up And No Place To 'Come'**

* * *

_Almost anything is easier to get into than out of._

_Except my bed; once I've got you, you never leave._

"I feel like I should be giving one of those evil villain laughs right about now," Quatre commented with wry resignation.

Trowa lifted a brow. "What, like this?" He threw his head back and roared, "Bwahahahahaha!" the maniacal sound echoing off the rafters.

Quatre snorted.

"Or maybe you should be smirking sexily. But wait, you'd have to die your hair black and grow a goatee first," Trowa said, giving a rather sexy smirk of his own.

"I actually like this one," Quatre told him, holding up the gunmetal gray T-shirt. He smiled sheepishly. "I'm not sure I could **wear** it anywhere outside the house, but I like it."

"I'm pretty sure it's Duo's way of apologizing for walking in on us last week," Trowa said wryly, cheeks pinkening slightly as he remembered how their exuberant friend had come over to surprise them with a housewarming gift – karmic coincidence had it being a 'Bondage for Beginners' kit (a rather redundant gift since they already had one, and were, in fact, using it when he arrived) – and, after receiving no response to his knock, he'd picked the lock and opened the door on them enjoying a little 'afternoon delight' in the middle of the living room.

Needless to say, Trowa had never seen anyone's eyes bug out that far before.

"I hope it'll teach him to think twice before picking the locks on friends' doors," Quatre said, chuckling.

Trowa snorted. "The locks on those doors are laughable – we need to replace them."

"Yes, we do," Quatre agreed, turning towards Trowa with a provocative in his aqua eyes. "But not until I've gotten some more mileage out of those handcuffs," he purred, pouncing.

Needless to say, it was a good thing Duo didn't decided to come over that afternoon. Quatre and Trowa were a little…tied up.

Well, actually…just Trowa.


	22. Boldly Pranking Who No One Has Pranked B...

**Boldly Pranking Who No One Has Pranked Before**

* * *

"'Damnit, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a solider,'" Sally read off the vintage Star Trek (the Original Series) T-shirt. It came complete with a miniature communicator pin – functioning inside a five-mile radius with anyone else who had one – and a toy phaser in neon metallic purple.

Wufei snorted. "Now, anyway."

"I'm both," Sally declared haughtily, carefully folding up the T-shirt around the commbadge and phaser. She was set for the next Preventer costume party. _Wonder what Wufei would look like in Vulcan ears?_ she thought, carefully schooling her face to not show her inward amusement at the picture she'd imagined. _Perhaps a Klingon – weren't they always going on about honor and such?_

"During the war, you hadn't gotten your degree yet," Wufei pointed out.

Sally gave a grunt, which indicated that he was right, but she wasn't going to admit it. She stuffed the shirt and accompanying paraphernalia in a drawer in her desk and turned back to straightening up the top of it.

"How exactly did I get pulled into this, anyway?" Sally demanded of her partner, shuffling some papers into the circular file shredder. She flicked a glance towards Wufei in inquiry.

Wufei shrugged in answer. "Somewhere around Maxwell booby trapping the entire base and Treize declaring amnesty for anyone who kept the pranks **off** base, it turned into a free-for-all."

Sally pondered that for a moment. "So we can go after anyone we want?" she clarified.

"It seems that way," Wufei agreed, a note of long-suffering in his voice. His eyes narrowed. "Why, do you have someone in mind?"

Sally's eyes gleamed with interest. "Oh, I know **just** the person…"


	23. Hawaiian Prank

**Hawaiian Prank**

* * *

'You go, Howard! And take those tacky Hawaiian shirts with you.'

Squinting down at the bumper sticker in his hands, Howard harrumphed. His Hawaiian shirts were the **height** of fashion.

At least the height of **his** fashion **sense**.

Grumbling under his breath about the, 'Damn kid,' Howard stomped over to the vidphone and hit Speed Dial D – nominally for 'Duo', but Death, Destruction, and Dimwit had also made an appearance.

Anyone want to take a guess on which one Howard thought it stood for in this instance?

Impatiently drumming his fingers on the wall as he waited for someone to pick up the now ringing phone, Howard schooled himself to at least get out his question before yelling at his adopted son/nephew.

He had a feeling it would be easier thought than done, though. No **idea** why that could be, ne?

Finally, the ringing stopped, signaling that someone had picked up the other end. It was another five seconds before a picture appeared on the screen – Howard made a mental note to fix the time lag on the audio-visual interface – of a young man with long chestnut-colored hair in a braid, a smile widening his face as he caught sight of the caller.

"Howie!" Duo greeted his friend enthusiastically. "How ya doin'?"

"What in name of Halley's Comet is **this**?" Howard roared, brandishing the bumper sticker he'd received in front of the monitor. He was so enraged that his hand was shaking back and forth, thus making it hard for Duo to make out the white print on the royal blue backing.

Duo blushed. "Er…a prank war?" he offered.

Howard's brow furrowed above his habitually-worn, rain or shine, sunglasses. "A **what**?"

Face growing even redder, Duo repeated, "A prank and insult war." Seeing Howard's still-uncomprehending look, he explained, "Everyone sends other people we know T-shirts or bumper stickers with annoying sayings, and some of us also prank people."

"And you decided I needed to join in the fun?" Howard asked dryly, familiar with his adopted nephew's sense of humor and 'fair' play.

"Wasn't me!" Duo was quick to defend himself. "I've been gettin' hit more than I've been hittin' people."

Howard's expression of disbelief would have been comical if it wasn't for the fact that Duo Maxwell being out-pranked was unheard of.

Until that moment, at any rate…

"You're shittin' me, right?" Howard said. "No one can out-prank you." He should know; he'd tried. And so had pretty much every single one of the Sweepers, all to no avail.

Duo looked taken aback by the comment. "What! No, of course not, Howie," he was quick to reassure the older man. "Barely anyone's actually pranked people but me so far. I meant that I've been receiving more T-shirts and bumper stickers than anyone else." He grinned. "And I've preferred to prank people rather than track down annoying and insulting sayings."

Howard mulled the newly received information over for a moment. Having decided on a course of action – namely, getting some of his own back – he asked, "Exactly what's the chain so far? I want to get in on this, but I don't want to go after someone who everybody's gotten."

Duo chuckled. "Well, that's good to hear, Howie, 'cause I've been hit more'n anybody."

Howard grunted. "Serves you right, kid," he chided gently, the twinkle in his eye letting Duo know he wasn't serious.

Rolling his eyes, Duo said, "I know, I know."

"So?" Howard prompted.

Duo screwed up his face and tapped his finger on his chin in a caricature of thought. "Hmm… Lemme think. I put pink dye in 'Fei's shampoo, and he did **something** – I don't know what – to the Ozzies, and they TP'd our safehouse…"

Howard nearly busted a gut laughing.

Duo grimaced sourly, the heat from his glare searing the older man even over the vidphone line. "Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up, old man – now that you've been pulled into the game you'll be getting hit a lot more."

Wiping his eyes of laughter-induced tears, Howard said sincerely, "I'm looking forward to it, kid. So what happened after you got rolled?"

"Well, Trowa got hit – popular opinion is that it was Une, 'cause she's still sore over him remaining undiscovered in OZ for so long – and then the rest of the pilots and I hit the Ozzies again. Quatre decided to hit Zechs – and he hacked into the lights for one of Quat's buildings and spelled out 'Duo is Dumb' in blacked out windows." Duo frowned as Howard laughed once more. "Then I hit Une, and Une hit me – and man, does that lady have a sick mind! – and I hit Treize, who hit Quatre," Duo listed.

"I didn't even think Count Kushy **knew** Quatre," Howard interjected, his lingering irritation at the former OZ general plain to hear in his voice.

Duo shrugged. "I think Quat mentioned something about their fathers traveling in the same circles. Anyway, Quat got Wufei – though I think Wuffers is in denial about that – and he got Relena. She wouldn't go after anyone on her own, so Dorothy did it for her, and got Trowa. Trowa went after Zechs – very inventive phrase, I thought – and Zechs threw his **life**, not just caution, to the wind by insulting Dorothy."

Howard blinked. "Dorothy Catalonia?" he asked with blatant incredulity. The woman had never used the ZERO system, but she could be even more psychotic without it than if she had.

Duo nodded. "Yup. And Dorothy thought **I** sent her the insult, so she got me back."

"All of them and it's only just **now** getting around to me?" Howard demanded, incongruously hurt that he'd been left out of the game even though moments before, he'd been raging at Duo for getting him into this mess.

Duo chuckled. "I don't think anyone thought it would last this long," he explained. "And there's still more to go."

Howard's eyes went wide behind his sunglasses. "More?" he squawked.

Duo nodded. "After Dorothy got me back, Chang decided to go after Treize out of turn – though I don't think anyone's really **waiting** to be hit at this point before hitting someone else – and I pranked the entire base." He gave a self-satisfied smile at his accomplishment, before finishing off with, "Noin went after Heero, and I got Quatre, who got Sally…who got you." Duo pointed his finger directly at the older man from across space.

Howard grimaced. "What's she got against me?" he grumbled.

Duo snorted. "Maybe the fact that you ogle her breasts every time you see her?"

Howard blushed beneath his sunglasses and coughed into his closed fist. "Er…right."

"I would suggest **not** going after her – but you never listen to me, so…" Duo shrugged. His eyes slanted to the side and he jumped. "Whoa! Look at the time – I gotta get to work." Turning back to the vidphone screen, he said, "Sorry, Howie, but I gotta go."

"That's all right, kid, I understand," Howard assured him. "You make sure you call me more often, okay?"

"Will do," Duo replied, and then the picture fizzled out, the screen returning to its inert black.

Howard stood staring at the vidphone for a moment before smirking as an idea came to him. "Maybe I never listen to the kid…but at least I have fun!" He cackled a laugh and headed off to track down an appropriate saying.


	24. Truth In Advertising

**Truth In Advertising**

* * *

_Let's just conveniently overlook the fact that by AC 196, Martha Stuart would have been dead for about two hundred years, all right?_

_Also, 'kisama' is basically Japanese for 'bastard,' the literal definition of which is 'child born out of wedlock/outside of marriage.'_

* * *

'Martha Stuart doesn't live here.'

_(Please forward her mail to OZ Memorial Prison.)_

Duo blinked at the ceramic plaque in his hands. "What the fuck?" he asked, completely confused.

After considering the wording of the white square for a moment, Heero said, "I believe it's referring to your inability to keep things clean." He gestured around them at their bedroom, which, despite Heero's best efforts, was still rather cluttered. There were dirty clothes scattered around and on top of the laundry hamper from Duo's impromptu basketball games, which used the clothes themselves as the ball; CDs scattered over and around the stereo; hair bands (and loose hair) all over the place; and bits and pieces of paperwork everywhere but on the desk.

All courtesy of one Duo Maxwell.

Snorting, Duo said, "Yeah, well, I've always believed that if it's true, it can't be all that insulting."

Heero frowned. "Then why do you get so mad when Wufei calls you 'kisama'?" he asked, remembering countless times that followed a similar formula: Duo did something that ticked Wufei off, Wufei yelled, "Kisama! Maxwell!" or something similar to that effect, Duo got angry at Wufei and called him some very unflattering things (Heero had never even heard of some of the swear words Duo used and he grew up with an assassin!), and Wufei threatened Duo with his katana, which started a brawl that Duo inevitably won. Despite Wufei's training in the marital arts, Duo fought dirty and always came out on top.

Duo grinned widely. "Because he expects me to get angry with him for quote-unquote 'insulting' me. You know he's big into that whole family lineage thing. If I didn't get mad at him for it, he'd think something was wrong with me." The 'duh' was implied rather heavily. He then shrugged and ducked his head, adding softly, "Besides, we don't know if it's true or not."

Heero sat on the bed beside his lover, pulling the other boy into his arms. "True or not, it doesn't make a difference to me," he said, voice equally as low.

Duo quirked a half-grin. "I know."

Wanting to take his lover's mind off his past, Heero said, "Question is now, what are you going to do about this?" He gestured expansively at the plaque Duo still held clutched in his hands.

Duo snorted. "I think I'll hang it in the kitchen. Should be good for a laugh the next time the guys come over." Being five of the Preventers' first recruits – though Quatre and Trowa worked only part time, the former spending the majority of his time running WEI and the latter dividing his between the circus and heading up his boyfriend's personal security – meant that they had the pick of the Preventers barracks, and theirs had a rather nice view of the training field outside the kitchen window.

"Well, Quatre at least will get a kick out of it," Heero allowed. "Though Chang will most likely spend half an hour ranting about your messiness and how dishonorable it is that you don't clean up after yourself," he added with a resigned smile.

Giving a disgusted sniff at the thought of one of Wufei's lectures, Duo stated, "I am not nearly as messy as people think I am."

Heero raised a single eyebrow in patented disbelief. "I've never been able to find anything in any place that you have blessed with your tendency towards disorganized chaos," he replied.

"Isn't 'disorganized chaos' a bit redundant?" Duo asked, his brow wrinkling.

Heero snorted. "Not when you're that messy."

Duo just rolled his eyes and got back to the topic at hand. "Besides, that's the whole point of my system – that no one else can find my stuff," he pointed out. "And I always know where everything is."

Recognizing that his lover was correct, Heero just grunted noncommittally. "Hn." During the war, it may have been important to keep sensitive documents and other Top Secret information secreted away – and hiding in plain sight was a proven way to do that – but it was peace time now, and Heero was a bit miffed that he had to spend ten minutes looking for one of his computer disks because of Duo's packrat tendencies.

Duo smirked. "And I always know what you are," he added.

Heero frowned minutely. "What I am?" he asked, confused.

Duo nodded vigorously, carefully setting the plaque aside on the bedside table and turning to his lover with a mischievous light in his indigo eyes. "At this moment in time, you are horny," he stated. His smirk widened. "And if you aren't, you will be soon." With that, he pounced.

And, while his first prediction about the state of Heero's horniness was incorrect, his second was undoubtedly true.


	25. As Good As It Gets And More

**As Good As It Gets – And More**

* * *

'I may seem like a nice girl, but I'm really a dominatrix in disguise.'

Dorothy smiled. "Not that I'd go around advertising my…" she coughed discretely, "little hobbies… But this **is** rather interesting."

Relena's eyes went wide. "You're not…serious… Are you?" she stuttered out. Visions of bondage gear flashing through her head caused a deep red flush to suffuse her cheeks.

Dorothy smirked widely. "Would you like to see my whip?" she offered.

Eyes going even wider, Relena choked out, "Maybe later. I have a meeting with the leaders of the European nations in fifteen minutes and I need to finish preparing for it." _Why did I say that?_ she berated herself. _She's been flirting with me for months and I choose **now** of all times to give in? I have no clue what I'm getting into here…_

_Damnit! Why do I always fall for homicidal maniacs with blue eyes?_

Dorothy's eyes lit up at the acquiescence. Giving the other woman a catty smirk, she purred, "While you're in your meeting, I'll be **preparing** for you."

Relena gulped. _This is either going to be really good…or really bad._

Then again, if it was bad…she could always turn the tables on Dorothy next time.

A small smile crossing her lips as she left the room, Relena thought, _Even if it's good, I can still give as good as I get._


	26. Heero Is Served

**Heero Is Served**

* * *

'Dinner is ready when the smoke alarm goes off.'

"Heeeeeey. I may be messy, but I **can** cook, dammit!" Duo growled in frustration at the bumper sticker in his hands.

"But you often forget you have something cooking and consequently our smoke alarm **does** get quite a bit of use," Heero pointed out logically.

Logic, however, never did sit well with one Duo Maxwell. Grimacing sourly at his lover, he demanded, "I thought you were supposed to be on **my** side?" Duo crumpled the bumper sticker in his hand and threw it into the wastebasket just inside the kitchen entrance.

Heero snorted. "I'm not going to feel sorry for you about this. You were the one who once said that if it's true, not only can it not be all that insulting, but it's also probably boring. It's not my fault if you're seeing the folly of your wisdom now."

"This from the man who once set the kitchen on fire," Duo observed icily.

Heero flushed. "It wasn't my fault," he defended himself weakly. "I was following a recipe and after I preheated the oven I started making the quiche. But I kept running across terms I didn't understand and having to use my computer to look them up. And by the time I got the quiche mixed, the stove had been lit for too long and it just…" He made a wavy motion with his, indicating the big 'BOOM!' that had ensued. It had also singed his eyebrows off and he'd looked even weirder without them than Dorothy had with her forked brows.

"So you're blaming the fact that we had to call the fire department on the cookbook?" Duo asked, his voice a mix of faked incredulity and sarcastic humor.

Glaring heatedly at his lover, Heero groused, "Computers are better than books; at least **they** include a help manual. That damn cookbook obviously wasn't written for the culinarily impaired." He sniffed haughtily.

Duo chuckled as a very perverted thought entered his mind. "Well, you may not be a very good **cook**, but you have a really nice **cock**," he said, a lascivious grin on his face.

Heero blushed once more. "Ecchi," he grumbled.

"And damn proud of it," Duo agreed. Snagging his lover's arm, he toward Heero towards the kitchen. "Now, I think there's a bottle of chocolate syrup in the fridge with your name on it." He licked his lips in demonstration

Heero sighed and gave in gracefully to the inevitable. Not that it was a hardship, mind you.

Though, in about five minutes, **something** would be hard…


	27. The Eye Has It

**The Eye Has It**

* * *

_Most people use a few dabs of hair gel. **You** use an entire store,_ proclaimed the bright green lettering on the black background of the bumper sticker the Winner-Barton household had received.

"I don't use that much hair gel," Trowa said without batting an eye.

At least, the visible one remained still…

"I didn't think you used **any**," Quatre said, perplexed.

"Of course," Trowa replied. "If I didn't, my hair would go all over the place." He shook his head to demonstrate; his bangs swished back and forth across his face, covering and revealing either eye in turn.

Quatre gave a weak chuckle. "Like Professor G's?" he asked jokingly, remembering the mushroom-shaped cloud of mint green hair Duo's trainer sported.

Trowa dipped his head in a nod. "Exactly."

Quatre shook his head. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Trowa asked leadingly, tilting his head towards the newest link of the insult chain.

Quatre, however, far from picking up on Trowa's unsubtle hint, had focused on the way his lover's hair fell. Stifling his mirth, the blond batted at a lock of brown hair doing its best to make a run for the right side of Trowa's face and said, "Pick up some maximum hold hair gel?"

Trowa's visible green eye glanced at the wayward locks in question and he grumbled.


	28. Long Live The Vice Foreign Minister

**Long Live The Vice Foreign Minister**

* * *

'Not only am I perfect, I'm a princess, too.'

Sighing in restrained irritation, Relena said, "When are people going to stop harping on this? I'm not even a princess anymore!"

Dorothy gave an elegant snort. "Aside from changing your job title to 'Vice Foreign Minister,' your job description is pretty much the same." She grinned wolfishly and singsonged, "You just don't get to wear your crown anymore."

Relena flushed beet red, providing a nice contrast to her new plum business suit. How Dorothy had found out she still took out the Peacecraft family's heirloom tiara to wear from time to time…she **didn't **want to know.

Knowing just exactly how Dorothy Catalonia kept her eye on everything in her mansion – and even better yet than her security, she would think, if Heero hadn't been the one to design the security system – would probably have her jumping at shadows. She'd be paranoid beyond belief. A little voice in her head – she thought it was that little bit of her self-preservation that she had never listened to when Heero threatened to kill her – piped up with, _It's only paranoia if they **aren't **out to get you._

Relena pasted a plastic smile on her face, gave Dorothy some weak excuse, and made tracks out of her office. She needed to call Trowa and ask him to come and check her palace for bugs; he was the best of the Gundam pilots at that. And then, maybe she should start listening to that little voice more often…or she might not live long enough to regret it.


	29. As The World Turns

**As The World Turns**

* * *

'Yes, as a matter of fact, the world **does** revolve around me.'

Quatre snickered at the T-shirt in his hands, black lettering spelling out the insult above a fist-sized representation of the Earth.

Trowa raised a brow. "You find this funny?" he asked his lover needlessly.

Between chuckles, Quatre said, "Well, L4 – and the other colonies – **do** have an opposing trajectory to Earth's orbit."

Trowa smirked. When put that way, it **was** rather funny.

"Personally, I would have thought that'd fit Relena better," Duo said, coming into the kitchen where the other two pilots were examining Quatre's latest 'gift.' They'd all planned to have dinner tonight and the newest witty barrage was making a great dinner conversation starter.

Heero, following on his lover's heels – or, rather, braid, since he reached out to grab and pull it at Duo's words – frowned. "She isn't that bad."

"She isn't that **good**, either," Duo shot back, causing Heero's frown to deepen.

Just because it was true, didn't mean he had to like it. Relena Peacecraft was a more than competent politician, but she occasionally had blinders on when it came to the real world.

"Besides, I don't think Miss Relena believes the world revolves around her," Quatre said, carefully folding the T-shirt and handing to his lover. Trowa accepted the shirt with aplomb, then headed towards their bedroom – and made a detour past the front door where he promptly stuffed it in the box of things he was taking to the Salvation Army the next morning.

Duo raised one chestnut brow, carefully hiding his smile at Trowa's antics. "Oh?"

Smirking, Quatre said, "She just thinks all of Sanq does."

Heero groaned, but could not argue with that infallible logic.

Duo dissolved into snickers. "And how!"


	30. Double Trouble

**Double Trouble**

* * *

"'Nobody knows the trouble I've been,'" Duo read from the dark purple T-shirt in his hands.

"Except me," Heero amended, looking over Duo's shoulder at the latest 'gift' he'd received – this one, surprisingly, from Relena.

Duo chuckled. "And the other guys. I mean, seriously; you can't be a Gundam pilot and not have caused some trouble."

Heero snorted. "Too true."

A calculating look coming over his face, Duo said, "And speaking of trouble…"

Heero raised one bushy brown eyebrow, not sure he wanted to know what was on Duo's excuse for a mind. "Yes?"

Duo grinned wolfishly as he reached out to remove Heero's shirt. "How's about we try and get into trouble by being late for work?"

Heero smirked back. Sometimes, the baka **did** have good ideas.

Even if he **did** end up getting into trouble because of them.


	31. The Kinkiness Of Sensationalism

**The Kinkiness Of Sensationalism**

* * *

'Kinky is using a feather, perverted is using the whole chicken.'

Even though Dorothy couldn't see her girlfriend's face, she knew Relena was blushing redder than a tomato.

The heat hovering near her shoulder was pretty much a dead give-away.

Dorothy slanted the other blonde a look out of the corner of her ice blue eyes. "I'll have to see about purchasing a peacock feather," she purred, her tone indicating that Relena would be the person she'd be using the feather **on**.

This only caused Relena to blush brighter. "I-I'm ticklish," she stuttered defensively, then winced at the predatory look she received from her girlfriend. Apparently that had been the wrong tack to take if she wanted Dorothy to reconsider.

And she used to be so good with words. As a diplomat, she had to be. And Relena liked to think she handled delicate and potentially messy social situations well; no matter how tawdry or sensational, she could always respond with aplomb to any question directed her way.

But have her girlfriend tease her with sexual innuendo, and she became a blushing virgin.

_Well, I **am** a virgin…_ the thought came unbidden to Relena's mind.

Somehow, she had the feeling she wouldn't be for much longer.


	32. Cool Indeed

**Cool Indeed**

* * *

"'People who can do cool stuff get noticed. Which is why I'm boring,'" Trowa read off his plain white T-Shirt.

"Not boring," Quatre disagreed. "More like 'unassuming.'"

Trowa raised his visible eyebrow in inquiry.

"You tend to keep a lot hidden – your 'cool stuff' to continue the metaphor – and you surprise people who you let it out into the open," Quatre said, thinking of his lover's gymnastics abilities.

Trowa was thinking of gymnastics, too – **bedroom** gymnastics. One arm wrapping around Quatre's waist, he moved until they were positioned face to face, chest to chest – cock to cock. "Well, I wouldn't want to surprise anyone but you, love," he purred, rocking his hips into Quatre's.

Aqua eyes dilating with lust, Quatre smirked. "**Very **cool," he replied huskily. "Care to… show me?"

Green eyes twinkled with mirth and passion. "Indeed."


	33. Born To Be A Lover

**Born To Be A Lover**

'Natural Born Killer.'

The saying blared out at Heero from the black T-shirt in his hands, causing him to frown darkly.

Only Duo was able to detect the hurt hidden behind that almost-glare. It had been a weight on the 'Perfect Soldier's' heart; that there was nothing he was good for besides killing. It had taken Duo a long time and a lot of sex to get Heero to quit thinking that those idiots – namely the media who had gifted him with that little nickname, and certain mad scientists known only by letters – were wrong about him.

If he'd known this little game would spark so much resentment, he would have stayed away from Wufei's shampoo and dumped the pink dye in Quatre's instead. The blond wouldn't have gotten nearly so worked up about it.

Deciding that actions would speak louder than words in this instance, Duo bounded over to his lover and insinuated himself into Heero's lap, displacing the hated shirt in the process.

Hiding a smile as he stared at the boy in his lap, Heero grumbled, "Quit acting so uke-ish, baka." It always unsettled him to see his normally aggressive lover acting submissive…even as some primal part of him thrilled at being able to pretend to protect him. That part ran even deeper than his soldier's training, and his need for Duo was one of the few things that made him believe he could be more than a killer. Duo was more than perfectly capable of protecting himself, but sometimes Heero got the urge to wrap him up in Gundanium to keep anything bad from happening to him.

The only thing stopping him was he knew Duo would kill him if he tried.

"Why? You know you like it," Duo teased, wiggling slightly on his human chair, and causing Heero's…'interest'…to rise.

Heero flushed slightly and averted his eyes. He'd never said anything, but somehow Duo still knew about those protective urges he got. "Yes," he admitted softly. "But you don't, so why are you doing this?" he asked, turning back to his lover.

Wrapping his arms around Heero's neck to pull him closer, Duo said, "Because you needed to be reminded that there's something else you're good at."

Heero gazed at him, uncomprehending. "What?" he asked.

Duo smiled. "Loving," he replied simply, and leaned in for a kiss.

Heero smiled in the kiss, having already forgotten about the depressing shirt. He had much more important things to focus on.


	34. Real Men Get Angry :And: Even

**Real Men Get Angry And Even**

'Macho law prohibits me from admitting I'm wrong.'

Duo almost choked on his coffee as he read the slogan on the navy T-shirt in his friend's hands. "Man, Une-chan really pegged you, ne, 'Fei?"

Bearing the countenance of a severely pissed off cat – and hissing his displeasure to boot – Wufei turned on his friend. "What did you say, Maxwell?" It would have been a rather calm and pleasant question – if Wufei hadn't been baring his teeth, onyx eyes glowing with the banked embers of anger.

In the face of such rage, Duo did what any God of Death in his position would – he smirked. "I said that this–" Duo flicked the T-shirt held in Wufei's tightly clenched hands "–is you all over, 'Fei-'Fei." Disregarding the other man's growls, he joked, "Forget justice, you just want to uphold Macho Law."

For several long, time-lapsed moments, Duo thought that he had, perhaps, finally gone too far. It appeared as if Wufei was preparing to not only hack off Duo's braid with his katana, but to also cut the rest of him into little pieces – and then get even more interesting. More horrifyingly, Wufei's former rage had subsided into nothing more than a calculating gleam in onyx eyes. His diamond-hard gaze measured Duo with the kind of intensity that was normally only seen by his enemies on the battlefield – right before he used Shenlong's Dragon Fang to fry them to a charbroiled crisp.

"Forget justice, ne, Maxwell?" Wufei mused, tapping a finger against his chin with mock-thoughtfulness. "No fairness or equality?" he asked rhetorically. "No quarter asked, no quarter given?" he quoted from some long-forgotten source.

Warily, Duo watched his friend/teammate/comrade-in-arms change before his very eyes into…

…well, into what he'd always thought 'Fei would be like if he ever used the ZERO system. Only scarier.

Duo gulped and started backing **slowly** out the door. Perhaps he'd finally pushed Wufei too far…

…and he was determined to be just as far away from him when Wufei exploded and the excrement hit the rotating aeration device.


	35. Breaking The Laws

**Breaking The Laws**

* * *

_The law of the sword says the man with the gun wins._

_You carry a rapier. I carry a magnum. 'Nuff said._

"Agent Yuy is getting far too familiar with Maxwell's way of speaking for my peace of mind," Treize said blandly.

Une couldn't hold back a snort. "One just has to hope that he's…rubbing off…on Maxwell as well." She coughed and turned her smiling eyes away from the bumper sticker in her husband's hands and, consequently, his eyes as well.

Watching his wife with amusement, Treize said, "Ah, yes, his single-minded determination when getting things done – or buildings blown up."

Une blanched. "Perhaps that isn't a good thing," she conceded in a small voice.

Treize considered for a moment. "Though there is one thing we should be grateful for."

"Mmm?" Une raised a brow inquiringly.

"They cannot change the laws of physics – or break them, either." Treize smirked. "There's only so much damage they can do, and only so much retaliation they can take."

Une snorted. "Too true, my love. Too true."


	36. Stupid Is As Stupid Does

**Stupid Is As Stupid Does**

* * *

_If it's stupid but it works, it isn't stupid._

_Like me._

Duo hmmphed. "Why does everyone keep calling me stupid?" he asked.

The question was rhetorical, but Heero being Heero, he answered it anyway. "Because you never bothered to turn in your schoolwork when we went undercover during the war, and because you always leave your report writing until the last minute now that we're Preventers," he supplied as an answer.

Duo sighed, flopping back on the bed, the T-shirt in his hands falling to the floor. "That's because all that schoolwork was so boooring," he whined, before becoming serious. "Why would I want to know about the Tax Riots of AC 104, or the Famine Fights of AC 99? It's not like anything had changed since then, not when there was a war on. No one had enough money or enough food except the rich and powerful." He fumed. "And they never gave the right accounting of how the war between the Alliance and OZ got started, anyway, and I got sick of having to write down propaganda as answers."

Heero blinked. He hadn't, actually, ever gotten a reason beyond the 'boooring' excuse before. "Well, perhaps if you demonstrated your lack of interest in inconsequential information in a less…erratic manner, you might convince people of your intelligence."

"What, like make smart aleck remarks that are actually smart?" Duo joked.

Nodding, Heero said, "Exactly." Well, not **exactly**, but he had meant for Duo to use his intelligence to better insult people who insulted him; a dual blow, as it were.

Duo's answering grin promised lots of pain and suffering – of the practical joke and/or prank variety. "Ah, well in that case, I'll show the Ozzies–"

"Ex-Ozzies," Heero corrected reflexively.

Duo snorted and acquiesced. "–the ex-Ozzies stupid." His grin grew sharper, filling with glee. "And they'll never know what hit them."

Heero made a note to himself to stock up on popcorn; he had a feeling it would be more fun to sit back and watch the carnage than to actually take part in it.

This time, anyway.


End file.
